


From the Cutting Room Floor

by Adrastos



Category: Lilo & Stitch (2002)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Early Work, Gen, Still Thought it Might be Interesting for People to See
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22030303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrastos/pseuds/Adrastos
Summary: A sort of proto-attempt at writing an AU Lilo and Stitch Fanfic, one that adheres rather close to the movie's order of events. Written about three and a half to four years ago and found whilst going through an old laptop.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	From the Cutting Room Floor

**I found this little (well, I SAY little when it wound up being about 8,000 words long) story while I was going through one of my old laptops. My first attempt ever at writing any sort of Fic, let alone a Lilo & Stitch one, I thought it would be something sort of interesting to post here as sort of a contrast between my earliest work and my later stuff like An Experiment's Rise, sort of like Tolkien and the Unfinished Tales - if Tolkien had scrapped almost everything he worked on and started anew with something completely divorced in plot and setting (inasmuch as a Fic for the same franchise can be, of course), leaving only traces of the original's sentiment and writing style in the new. **

**This is, of course, a rather rough work - it's unfinished and was never meant for anyone to see it but me - I didn't start writing what would eventually become An Experiment's Rise until a year after I wrote the last bit of this, IIRC, and I stopped doing this one roughly two and a half years before ever deciding to post anything on AO3 at all - but I still think that it's something that might be interesting to post. It's important to remember one's roots, and to me it's also kinda fun to go back and look at the first Fic I ever really wrote. Hell, pretty much the first thing I ever free-wrote for something besides a school assignment.**

**So for these reasons, I decided to post my old Fic from four years ago. Incidentally I stopped doing it because I had to go off to college, and am only posting it now that I've graduated from said college. Make of that what you will.**

**Anyhoo, here's my first ever Fic, written before An Experiment's Rise was even a glimmer in my eye.**

**......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................**

Hushed whispering broke out in the Grand Council chamber. The delegates of the Galactic Federation in attendance had heard that today’s trial centered on a matter of utmost controversy and the violation of one of the Federation’s most sacred laws. Rumors flew left and right, with representatives from Turo to Chorma speculating wildly. At the moment, the most popular rumor was necromancy – word in the Council was that some man out in the edge of known space had perfected the art of creating a zombie army.

Regardless, the representatives thought, it was clear as the lights turned on and the leaders of the Federation took their places that the Grand Councilwoman was _supremely_ angry.

_Zombies for sure_ , more than one delegate later attested to thinking.

“Read the charges!” The Councilwoman spit out the words, thoroughly disgusted about the crime brought before her court.

“Dr. Jumba Jookiba”, the massive alien, Captain Gantu of the Federation Navy, to her right read, “Lead scientist of Galaxy Defense Industries. You stand before this Council, _accused_ of…” the alien briefly paused, somewhat surprised at what he was reading. _Well_ , he thought, _that explains the disgust._ “Illegal genetic experimentation!”

The uproar in the chamber was immense. Tampering with nature in such a way was seen as utterly reprehensible, a violation of the highest order. Gradually, the chamber turned its attention to the evidence module, wondering that sort of truth it would bring to light.

The Councilwoman waited for the noise to abate before continuing: she wanted to hear every single word the man in front of her said.

“How do you plead?” She asked.

_Feh_ , Jumba thought, _If these fools think that they can get me to cough up for good of Federation or whatever then they are sorely misguided._ “Not guilty! My experiments are only theoretical, and completely within legal boundaries.” His projection of confidence was rather undermined by his nervous glances at the module gradually advancing towards him, but with any luck he could persuade the Council of his innocence before they were able to call his bluff. Somehow.

“We believe that you actually created something. Do you deny this?”

“Created something?” Jumba scoffed at the idea, trying to seem oblivious to the small capsule lowering to his left. “Ha! That would be irresponsible, not to mention unethical! I would never, ever…”

The capsule opened.

If there had been an uproar when the nature of the crime had been announced, it was nothing compared to the cries that now filled the cavernous room. Contained within the capsule was a small blue-furred creature, clothed in a red jumpsuit not unlike those worn by children playing at soldiers all across the galaxy. The creature had four arms, a pair of antennae on its head, a row of three spines on its back, and a short, tubby tail. It gazed out at the audience, staring with a pair of dark eyes.

Altogether, decidedly an illegal genetic experiment.

“Make…more than one?” Jumba finished weakly. It was rather obvious that he had hoped his little experiment would remain a secret.

In its’ capsule, the experiment stared back at Jumba, feeling shocked at what it had heard. _How,_ it thought, _could Jumba try to deny my very existence? He, the one being I have met so far that saw me as more than just a destructive monster?_ The experiment began to growl. _Very well then_ , it thought, _if everything in this universe has written me off as a force of destruction then let me be one!_ The experiment lunged at the glass containing it, baring its teeth and snarling at the terrified onlookers. The experiment noted with savage pleasure that the entire room seemed to recoil as one, as though it could somehow breakout and attack them. Oh, it wished it were so.

“What is that, that…” Gantu stammered.

“That monstrosity!” The Councilwoman finished.

Jumba nervously wrung his hands over his head: things were not going well.

“Monstrosity?” What you see before you is the first of a new species.” Jumba turned to his creation, who was still snapping at the terrified delegates. “I call it Experiment 626. It is bulletproof, fireproof, and can think faster than supercomputer. It can see in the dark, and move objections three thousand times its size. Its’ only instinct – to destroy everything it touches!”

“So it _is_ a monster.” The Councilwoman’s gaze was full of contempt.

Jumba shrugged. “Eh. Just a little one.”

The Councilwoman, her mind made up, cleared her throat. “Very well. I feel as though this…Experiment 626 is a grievous affront to nature, and as such ought to be either destroyed or otherwise disposed of. With this in mind, I move to take a vote on –”

“With all due respect,” Gantu interjected, “I ask that we delay such a motion for several minutes. As Experiment 626 appears to be a thinking being, I feel as though sentencing it without giving it the change to testify for itself would be a violation of our Constitution.”

The Councilwoman sighed. _Gantu really is such a stickler for procedure._ “As you wish. I shall give that… _thing_ …a chance to speak for itself.” She turned to the experiment, who appeared to be attempting to claw out from under the capsule. “Experiment 626, give us some sign that you understand any of this. Show us that there is some reason why you deserve to live.”

As it turned out, 626 was perfectly able to comprehend every word that she said. And what it heard was not to its’ liking. _Why should I bow down to you_ , it thought to itself, _when all you’ve done is treat me like some monster? In fact_ , 626 began to clear its throat as it thought, _I think I’ll share exactly what I think of all of you._ Taking great amusement at the intrigued looks from the podium, 626 shouted out “ _Meega, nala queesta!_ ”

The response was immediate. At least two-thirds of the room erupted in screams of horror, and all around the chamber sounds of retching could be heard. “How _naughty!_ ” The Councilwoman choked out. 626 began laughing manically, pleased at the abject disgust and horror its’ remarks had caused.

Jumba was utterly terrified. “I didn’t teach it that!” He protested in a last-ditch attempt to save himself.

Gantu quickly regained his composure. “Place that idiot scientist under arrest!”

With a warning beep, a capsule not unlike the one 626 was in formed around Jumba. As it carried him out of the courtroom, he shouted “I prefer to be called EVIL GENIUS!”

“And as for that abomination,” the Councilwoman declared, “it is the flawed and deranged product of an equally deranged mind. It has no place among us. Captain Gantu, take that thing away.”

“As you wish.”

626 remained oblivious to its fate, instead deciding to happily slobber on the side of the capsule. _Such fools_.

As the trial delegates began to stampede out of the chamber, Gantu keyed in several commands to his soldiers. 626’s capsule began to move downwards, bringing the experiment to the depths of the chamber. As the capsule reached the bottom and 626 began to re-steady itself a door to its right opened and a horde of soldiers dressed in white armor streamed into the room. 626 began to snarl at them, hoping to see them scatter like the fools in the trial. Undaunted, one of the soldiers walked up to the capsule and pressed a button. Quickly the sides of the capsule began to extent inwards and downwards, forming an oval around 626 and trapping it. As the experiment found all but its head suddenly surrounded and unable to move, the ground above it vanished and a pair of soldiers grabbed the restraint.

Seemingly oblivious to 626’s growls and angry barks, the soldiers carried their prisoner into the prison ship known as the _Durgon_. Meeting up with the fish-like Sergeant Sludge, the soldiers took 626 into a maximum-security cell. Once inside, the soldiers snapped 626 into the sealing. As it glared down at them, one soldier took out a small flask with a needle on the end. 626 began frantically biting in an attempt to avoid the needle, but before long the soldier saw an opening and plunged the needle into the experiment’s blue body. The experiment gave out a small _yip_ in discomfort. Once the flask was mostly full and the needle removed from 626’s body the soldier handed the sample down to Sludge. Giving a small huff the sergeant proceeded to place it in one of the cannons on either side of the room.

626 watched the soldiers work in confusion. _Why are they putting my blood in that cannon? Why not just turn it on_? Suddenly, the cannon perked up. Giving a small whirr as it charged the object shot past the soldiers in the room and focused on 626.

_Ah_ , the experiment thought as it watched and heard similar noises from the other side of the room, _that’s why_.

626 began to growl at the nearest cannon, seeing little else to do, and entirely focused on its fruitless attempts at intimidation it was oblivious to Gantu entering the room.

The captain strode up to the prisoner. “Uncomfortable? You should consider yourself lucky to be alive after the stunt you pulled. At any rate, the Council has banished you to exile on a desert asteroid, so relax! Enjoy the trip! And don’t get any ideas about escaping – these guns are locked onto your genetic signature. They won’t shoot anyone”, he gloated as he tapped 626, “anyone but you.”

He looked down at Sludge. “Are you able to handle your guest on our own? I need all hands to be elsewhere to look after our other residents.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well then. If you need me, just comm.”

When Gantu entered the ship’s bridge, upon giving the _all clear_ signal the captain collapsed into his chair with a sigh. _It’s really a shame that 626 was created the way that it was. Had it been given more of a moral compass, it might have made a good soldier._

Gantu shook his head. There was no point in overthinking things – in a few hours the experiment would be safely in exile, and things would settle back to normal.

***

626 was busy thinking. Although at first blush it appeared that the Federation had created a foolproof means of containment, the experiment refused to go quietly into exile.

_Come on_ , 626 thought to itself _, your brain is better than the most advanced supercomputer. There must be_ some _way to escape._ Thinking back over Gantu’s entire spiel in hopes of finding some weakness, one phrase seemed to stick out in particular: Gantu had gloated that the guns currently pointing at 626 were locked onto its genetic signature. _Interesting. I wonder…_ Experimentally, 626 began to shift its head around and wave its ears. Sure enough, every moment it made caused the cannons to shift position. 626 chuckled. _Huh. Now, if they track saliva…_ With a plan to escape quickly taking root in its mind, the experiment let a large glob of drool escape its mouth. As predicted the cannons followed every movement the drool made as though it was the prisoner they were supposed to be watching.

“Oh ho!” 626 grinned. Clearly, this plan was going to work.

Down in his seat, Sludge was growing annoyed. His game of Space Solitair was going badly, his suit was forming a tight bunch around the rear, and to top it all off the abomination he was supposed to be watching had been making disgusting slobbering noises and begun chuckling every five seconds. Deciding to shut up the disgusting creature the Sergeant turned to face the prisoner.

“Shut it, thing!” For a second, Sludge savored the look of indignation on 626’s face. As the experiment snarled at him, Sludge allowed himself a few gloating thoughts. What did it matter? The system was foolproof!

As it glared down at the foolish little soldier sitting below, 626 gave a mental shrug. _Well,_ it figured, _now is as good a time as any to get moving_.

Summoning up all the spit that it could, 626 took aim and hurled a massive glob at the door behind the pathetic excuse for a guard. While the cannons did their job 626 punched through the restraint, dropping to the floor. The experiment began to laugh hysterically as it ran, using the remains of the restraint to dodge errant cannon shots. Ignoring the warning klaxons, 626 began the next part of its escape. All it needed was an air vent.

Up on the bridge all had been quiet until Gantu’s first mate let out a gasp of shock.

“Captain, we have reports of gunfire in the cell bay!”

Suddenly, she let out a cry and turned to her superior. “ _626 is loose! It’s making a run for it!_ ”

In a flash, Gantu lept up and grabbed his comm device. “Not if we can help it. All troops, gather on deck C, section 8. Experiment 626 is loose – if seen, _fire on sight!_ ” His order sent Gantu turned to the display; although squadrons of soldiers could be seen racing to C deck, he couldn’t allow himself to relax until the prisoner was captured. In the meantime, he would have to hope for the best.

As F quad entered into section 8, their commander raised his weapon. Authorization had already been given to use deadly force, and he did not want to give the experiment the chance to attack. He’d read the report on its capabilities. As he turned a corner, he saw his prey.

“There it is! Fire!” The hallway lit up with countless shots, but all of them missed their mark. The commander couldn’t believe it. _How fast is this thing?_ Seeing it make for the vent, he signaled his troops to stop firing and ran to try and stop the experiment from escaping.

He was half a second too slow. Reaching the vent only to see 626 slip into it, the commander angrily kicked the wall. “Blitznak!” Regaining composure, he frantically radioed Gantu.

“Security to bridge – we lost 626. It’s in the ventilation system. I think it’s heading towards the ships.” With that, the commander sighed and resigned himself to a disciplinary session. He hoped that someone would be able to intercept the experiment before it escaped.

The bridge was in chaos. Gantu was hearing about eight different replies a minute, mostly consisting of increasingly profane was to say ‘where is it’, and after the fifth panicked call from T squad Gantu exploded. “EVERYONE SHUT UP! I NEED TO THIN! ONLY USE YOUR KRIFFING RADIO IF YOU ACTUALLY _SEE_ THE PRISONER!” In the newfound quiet, Gantu began to settle back into his chair when he heard a quiet beeping noise. Apparently, F squad had seen 626.

“This is Gantu. I take it you’ve seen our little guest?”

“Well… we did. Briefly.”

A sudden sense of doom entered onto the bridge.

“Don’t tell me 626 escaped you.”

“Into the vents, sir. We honestly have no idea where it is headed, but we-”

Before he could finish, a warning klaxon began to blare from the cruiser launch bay.

_Blitznak_. For a moment Gantu was almost tempted to just let the klaxon go unanswered and plead difficulties to the Council. Quashing this desire the Captain began to respond. “Let me guess: 626 is somewhere in with you.”

“We _think_ so,” a high voice answered, “but we haven’t seen it yet. Wait – I see it! All troops, move towards – wait, wait! NO! AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

_Boom_

Gantu’s third-in-command turned to him. “I think 626 may have taken a police cruiser.

_Thank you, Captain Obvious._ Gantu let out a deep sigh. “Well, our forces should scramble as soon as –”

626 roared past the bridge, sirens blazing.

As Gantu stared, he swore that he could hear the experiment whooping.

Naturally, it had taken the bright red prototype. _Of course_.

Within the cruiser, 626 was elated. For the first time in its (admittedly highly short) life, the experiment was free. No capsules, no restraints, just open space.

Besides, that was, the massive horde of angry soldiers bearing down on it. Letting out a growl of disdain, the experiment flipped its vehicle. _You want to play_ , it thought, _I’m game_. The experiment blasted through the horde, laughing at every soldier it shot down. _I’m good at this. Fear me, ingrates!_

Unfortunately for 626, there was one pilot in the horde who had decided to sacrifice self-preservation in the interest of public safety, and to that end rammed their cruiser into the experiment’s. 626 survived; the cannon and propulsion systems, on the other hand, did not.

Sensing that the fools all around it smelt victory, 626 let out a small growl. Quickly taking stock of the damage it noted that technically speaking the cruiser was still moving. In addition, it appeared that the hyperdrive was functioning just fine. Laughing at its discoveries, 626 took the time to shout a defiant “never!” at the leering faces all around him. Smashing open the hyperdrive port the experiment pulled the lever out before slamming it back in. It didn’t care _where_ it went, so long as it was just _away_. As the stars expanded around it and 626 felt g-forces press it against the seat, the experiment began to relax.

Finally, it was completely free.

Gantu watched the pursuit with mixed feelings, feelings which turned into an annoyed resignation when the experiment blasted off into hyperspace. Taking a moment to stare at the now-disheveled fleet of police cruisers (being caught in a hyperspace jump tended to have an effect not unlike throwing a stick of paper into hurricane-force winds), he turned to his completely shocked underlings. “Get me to Galactic Control.” _I am SO getting fired for this_.

It was complete anarchy in the control center. 626’s escape had sent the main artery of the Federation into a frenzy of panic, and by the time someone actually managed to notify the Councilwoman the odds of forcing 626 out of hyperspace had dwindled to none. Understandably, the Councilwoman was less than enthused and promptly stormed off to central command.

“WHERE IS IT?!” The Councilwoman began to stomp into the center of the room, daring any of the employees to speak.

In the front, a tiny voice rang out. “The experiment is still in hyperspace.”

“Where will it exit.”

“We’re still calculating”, a second worker said, “but it’s not looking good. Based off the cruiser’s trajectory, we are predicting a landing in the fifth spiral.

The Councilwoman sighed; they’d had a bit of trouble there before. “Area fifty-one, I assume?”

“Affirmative.

_Of course_. “I assume that to hope 626 will simply land in a patch of water and get crushed by the pressure is pointless?”

“Unfortunately, although we are not sure of _where_ exactly the cruiser will land, none of the options we have point in that direction.” Pulling up a map of the planet on the central display, the workers highlighting ten different areas on the map. “Regarding potential targets, we’re actually lucky. Besides a city of around five million here,” she pointed, “all of the targets are in rather isolated spots: one’s in the middle of a desert, another on a sparsely populated island, a third in the middle of a giant forest, et cetera.”

The Councilwoman pulled out her comm. She intended to collect 626 herself, and needed all the help she could get. “Good, good. When Agent Pleakley gets here, I shall expect a thorough debriefing on all the potential locations.”

A small murmer rose up form the room. “ _Pleakley_ , ma’am? Are you sure?”

“Agent Pleakley is perhaps the only being of rank in the Federation with decent knowledge of that corner of the galaxy. I understand he is rather eccentric, but given the circumstances I need someone who actually knows information about the planet. Is that clear?”

In spite of the large amounts of grumbling coming from around the room, all those present nodded their heads. Satisfied, the Councilwoman turned back the monitor.

“Now that I think about it, things may be too dangerous to retrieve 626 alive.” She turned to the staff. “Begin to assess the possibility of a mass-cleansing. It’s not ideal, but given the circumstances…”  
An hour later, the figures were complete. If all ten spots were thoroughly cleared, the probability of 626 being destroyed was 99.6%. Admittedly it would require the deaths of at least twelve million primitives and likely traumatize all the rest, better a few million than countless trillions.

“Alright,” the Councilwoman announced “although I would rather capture 626 the numbers speak for themselves. Once Pleakley arrives, I fully intent to discuss this matter with –”

Before she could finish a green squid-like being burst into the room.

“NOOO! NO CLEANSING! I WON’T ALLOW IT!” Agent Wendy Pleakley had arrived, and oblivious to all the dirty looks and sly comments from those assembled the alien wasted no time in barreling towards the Councilwoman, who merely sighed and rolled her eyes.

“And why, Agent Pleakley, can we not cleanse the galaxy of this abomination?”

“Because, milady, the planet Earth is currently a labelled wildlife sanctuary. We’re using it to rebuild the mosquito population, which as I have noted in NUMEROUS BREIFINGS is an endangered species.”

The Councilwoman resisted the urge to scream. “And I’m assuming that mosquitoes live in some of the designated spots?”

“All ten of them, actually.”

“Now can they be endangered if they’re so widespread? It doesn’t –” she shook her head. “Never mind, we’re back to personally collecting 626. What would be the effects of a full company of soldiers coming with me?”

Pleakley looked shocked. “How could you even suggest that? The people of Earth are _absurdly_ delicate and paranoid! If you land with a bunch of soldiers, the entire planet would go insane! We’re not just talking cultural shifts, we’re talking THE ENTIRE WORLDVIEW OF THE SPECIES BEING SHOT TO PIECES! It’s be like the apocalypse! _NO SOLDIERS!”_

“Then _how_ do you expect us to capture 626? Need I remind you that our quarry is more or less a _biological nuke with no morality whatsoever?_ What sort of method would _you_ take?”

Pleakley stood and thought for a second. “It _is_ tricky…” Suddenly he clapped his hands. “I know! Enlist 626’s creator! If anyone’ll know how to quietly capture that thing, he will!”

The Councilwoman moved to protest, but stopped. Truthfully, it wasn’t that bad of an idea.

“Very well,” she said, “we shall use your plan. Pleakley, follow me; we have a prison to visit.”

***

Jumba sat in his prison cell, fuming. As he sat in the middle of the _Durgon_ his prized creation was somewhere above him, soon to be exiled onto an asteroid while the creator rotted in a prison cell. Jumba punched his bed. For an evil genius such as himself, it was such an ignominious end he couldn’t stand it. Not even the warning klaxons could distract him, and at any rate they were over in ten minutes.

_Five hours down,_ Jumba thought, _only ten years left to go._

So wrapped up in his thoughts, it took Jumba a second to notice that he had visitors. As he glanced over, with a _whish_ his cell door opened and the Grand Councilwoman stepped in alongside a skinny little government stooge.

Sensing what this visit was about, he chuckled. “I take it 626 has slipped net?”

“I’m sure this comes as little surprise to you, seeing as you made such an _awful beast_.”

Jumba huffed. “Well, good luck getting 626 back. I designed my creation to be unstoppable, after all. Whatever planet it’s on, 626 is surely tearing world apart.”

At this, Pleakley spoke up. “it’s not funny! You made a death machine, and you need to clean your mess up!”

“And what are you expecting me to do, go catch 626 myself?”

“In essence,” the Grand Councilwoman replied, “that is exactly what we are asking. I intend to personally capture this galactic menace before it can get out of hand, and I need all the help I can get. As such, I am willing to trade your freedom for 626’s capture.”

“626 will not come easily. What are your terms?”

“A complete pardon for your creation of that monster, along with a job as a military scientist. Do we have a deal, doctor Jumba?”

Jumba nodded. “I’m assuming I’ll never be outsight of you or your little one-eyed friend?”

“That is correct.”

“I thought as much. Still, anything is being better than this cell. When do we leave?”

“Right now, actually. 626 must be detained as soon as possible, and we cannot wait any longer.”

Pleakley began to cheer. “Yes! Let’s get this little show on the road!”

***

As the trio flew towards Earth and their target, they began to discuss plans for locating and capturing 626. As the planet was rather large and they had ten different sites to search, it was decided to start in the major population center. If the experiment was hiding in a city it would swiftly be noticed or make itself known, Jumba felt; after all, a feral bioweapon would surely be more important than some celebrity scandal.

“Very well,” the Councilwoman said after their plans were finalized, “I can’t anticipate us being on this planet for more than five days. As according to our plan we shall start by searching the city known as…” she paused. “Agent Pleakley, how is this pronounced again?”

“It’s pronounced ‘Kolkata’, milady.”

“Thank you. We shall start by searching this city for one day, and if we do not find 626 within that time we shall move on. Our ship is equipped with a cloaking device, so we should be able to slip in unseen.”

Jumba chuckled. “Sounds good. Perhaps I will be getting ideas for future projects in this city.” He turned to Pleakley. “Let’s go, my little one-eyed friend.”

As the two rushed off the Councilwoman turned back to the computer. Although she was fairly sure that they would go unnoticed in a city as cosmopolitan as the one they were in, she felt it best to notify her planetary contact that they were here. Turning on the computer and making her call, within moments the face of a large, black male Earthling stared back at her.

“This is agent Cobra Bubbles. To what do I owe this pleasure.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I am currently on Earth with a couple of allies. We are tracking down an escaped fugitive, and have reason to suspect that it is in this city. Has anything strange happened around this area as of late?”

“Let me check…” the man ruffled through same papers. “Not in Kolkata. In my area we did have an aberrant shooting star several hours ago, but nothing since. If I find out more, I will contact you as soon as I get the chance. That said, I should warn you that any information may be delayed in coming – I have a case coming up that is rather…complicated.”

“Thank you, my old friend. I, too, will attempt to keep you posted.” With that, the Councilwoman shut off the monitor and stepped out into the city. She had a long day ahead, and she very much wanted to get started.

When night fell and the trio assembled back in the spaceship, none of them were in a good mood. Halfway through the day Pleakley had been complete distracted by a clothe store and managed to whittle away an entire hour shopping around the latest fashions, while the Councilwoman had at one point managed to get mixed up in a street fight. 626 was nowhere to be found, and news stories detailing its path of destruction had also failed to materialize, meaning they were completely out of leads.

“Well,” Jumba grumbled, “that was utterly pointless. We might as well have just sat in orbit and waited for 626 to blast off again.”

Meanwhile, Pleakley sat fidgeting in his new clothes. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I got some pretty dresses, and I _think_ that cashier had his eyes on me.”

Jumba snorted. “So this day was not being complete waste then. Maybe next time we can just drop you off at clothing store so I won’t have to be wasting time with you.”

The Councilwoman stood up. “Leaving aside your inane bickering for the moment, I’d like to return to our task at hand. I suggest we check the rainforest next – it’s uncomfortably close to some cities, and its density might account for why 626 has not yet been noticed. Is this acceptable?” Both Jumba and Pleakley murmured their assents. “Good.” The Councilwoman set the ship to travel towards the Amazon. “Maybe this time we’ll have more luck.”

This time traveling with Jumba, the Councilwoman had barely gotten out of sight of the ship when Pleakley frantically radioed in.

“This is agent Pleakley. I need help! I’m being attacked! Help! Help! NOOO!”

The Councilwoman turned to Jumba. “626?”

“Maybe.”

The two hurried through the underbrush after Pleakley’s scream, eventually coming across a tree with a streak of blood on it.

Jumba paled. “Pleakley? Where are you, my little one-eyed one?”

A frantic whisper replied from the tree. “Shhh! Be quiet!”

“Did you see 626?”

“ _No!_ It’s an animal called the jaguar! Last I saw it, it was _right where you’re standing, milady!_ ”

She turned, as far as she could tell there was nothing to see, and she was about to tell Pleakley that the creature had moved on when she suddenly heard a noise to her left.

Moving her head a modicum, she suddenly came face-to-face with the ‘Jaguar’ Pleakley was afraid of.

For the first time in her memory, she cursed. “Blitznak!”

Before she could move the creature was on her, trying to snap her neck. It was all she could do to keep the beast from sinking its teeth into her, but the animal still managed to rake her shoulder with its claws. She screamed in pain.

Jumba pulled his gun from his holster. “Councilwoman, don’t move!”

“What else can I do! JUST FIRE ALREADY!”

Jumba obliged, nailing the Jaguar straight in the stomach, blasting the creature back into a tree. It ran off with a _yelp_ as Jumba helped the Councilwoman up to her feet. “I am thinking may be we should retreat for now Those are some nasty claw marks.

Jumba was right; although the Jaguar had failed to snap her neck its claws had still done a fair bit of damage, and the Councilwoman now bore rather large gashes across her stomach.

“But 626…” she protested.

Moving to shake Pleakley out of his tree, Jumba shook his head. “Experiment can wait. We are not knowing if this animal is poisonous or rabid, and we don’t want to risk losing you.”

Pleakley fell to the ground and stumbled to his feet. “He’s right, milady. Although I’m pretty sure the Jaguar’s not poisonous it isn’t exactly good for either of us to leave out open wounds. Unfortunately, we need to leave Earth for now.” Seeing the look on the Councilwoman’s face, Pleakley quickly moved to reassure her. “But look on the bright side! At least there are still no reports of 626 going on a rampage.”

With a sigh, the Councilwoman resigned herself. Calling agent Bubbles to let them know that they were pulling out for now, she began to prepare the ship to jump back to Federation space.

Receiving the message, Bubbles slumped back into his chair. _Remind me to ask if I can get a longer-range communication beacon when they come back around_ , he thought to himself. If the Councilwoman had given him the chance to respond instead of simply firing off an ‘I’m leaving’ message, she would have gained some interesting news: the case Bubbles was working on head recently acquired a “dog” that was almost assuredly an alien. _Why is it that these things always fall into MY lap?_

***

A week later, the medical staff finally relented to the Councilwoman’s constant protestations and allowed her to leave. Summoning Jumba and Pleakley back to the ship she began to speak. “We have lost too much time already due to medical reasons. Doubtless by now 626 has been sighted somewhere, so I propose that we move as soon as possible.”

Jumba nodded. “Agreed. I’m sick of being looked at like criminal by everyone in this hospital.”

When they arrived in Earth orbit, the Councilwoman paged Bubbles. “Councilwoman to Cobra. Any news since we left?”

Cobra was clearly annoyed at something. “Actually, there was news I had to give you _before_ you flew off, if you’d stopped to listen. The case I am working on appears to have acquired a dog that is best described as a blue koala, and over the past week it has become rather obvious that this “dog” actually knows how to speak broken sentences. I feel it his highly likely that it may be your quarry.”

“Thank you, Bubbles. We shall make for your location immediately.” She turned to Jumba. “Well, doctor Jumba? Do you feel as though this could be your creation?”

He nodded. “It seems logical. Now, what interests me is that 626 has seemingly been living with a group of Earthlings for over a week in apparent peace. Is completely at odds with its programming, as by all rights it should have torn them apart. I have no idea what is going on.”

Pleakley piped up. “Could 626 have reformed somehow?”

“Maybe. 626 is being my first successful creation, so it stands to reason that there is a lot I don’t know.”

The Councilwoman cleared her throat. “At any rate, we need to get going. When we land, I want Jumba and Pleakley to locate and observe 626 while I call for backup.” Ignoring Pleakley’s slight protestations she continued “Although I am aware that I agreed not to land any soldiers on Earth while we continue our operation I feel as though the fact that 626 is living more or less openly with a group of humans means that we can safely use a judicious application of military force.”

With that, the three flew to Bubbles’ location. As the ship flew over the small island of Kaua’i, Pleakley looked out the window. “This island appears not to have any major cities,” he observed, “so I can imagine that 626 felt as though it could not properly enact its’ programming and decided to change approach.”

It all made sense to Jumba, although it still did not explain why 626 had decided to play nice all of a sudden. Even if there were no large cities, he felt as though surely 626 would have settled for terrorizing what towns were there. Could the Earthlings have somehow found a way to override the programming he had worked for months to perfect? When the ship finally landed, Jumba almost bolted out onto the island. He wanted to see 626 for himself.

Around midday, Jumba and Pleakley finally found 626. Sure enough the experiment was hanging out with a group of Earthlings, not even trying to disguise the fact that it was an alien. _What was it thinking?_ Jumba thought to himself, incredulous. Watching his creation through a pair of binoculars, Jumba could hear snatches of conversation between 626 and the little girl it was with.

“Come on, Stitch!” The girl seemed to be saying.

_Stitch?_ Jumba blinked.

“Coming, Lilo!” The experiment ran after her. A few minutes later, the two came back into view. Wanting to get a better look, Jumba crept close enough to hear every word the two were saying.

“Nani says David wants to take us surfing tonight. Wanna come?”

“Yeah!”

Now Jumba was _really_ shocked – his experiment wasn’t designed to handle water, and certainly wasn’t supposed to make friends with little girls from primitive cultures, yet here 626 was, acting completely at odds with how it should have.

Pleakley tapped Jumba on the shoulder, shaking him out of his reverie. “Are you sure that’s 626? From the way it was described I thought the experiment would be a bit more -” before he could finish, Jumba grabbed him by the throat.

“Shut up! I’m trying to watch.” Unfortunately, soon 626 and the girl stepped back out of sight. Stymied, the two returned to the Councilwoman.

When the Councilwoman saw Jumba and Pleakley return, it was rather obvious that something was amiss. Having just received affirmation that a squad of ten soldiers had entered into orbit, she turned to them. “I take it there were issues with the experiment?”

Pleakley was the first to respond. “Oh, we found it alright. Problem was, it was with a little Earthling girl.”

“A hostage?”

“No, they seemed to be very close emotionally.”

The Councilwoman was incredulous. “Did it seem romantic at all?”

Pleakley shook his head.

“Then what was it?”

“What Pleakley is trying to say,” Jumba interjected, “is that 626 seemed almost…reformed. Like completely different experiment.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just trying to trick you?”

“It couldn’t see us, Councilwoman. From what I could tell 626 was having no motive in playing nice. It was very odd.”

As if to clear her mind, the Councilwoman shook her head. “Never mind, I guess we can sort this out when the experiment is recaptured. From your observations, did any potential opportunities arise where we could slip in?”

Jumba thought for a moment. “Well, the little girl did mention that she and 626 would be surfing in evening. Perhaps then we could jump in.”

The Councilwoman turned to Pleakley. “Thoughts?”

“I think we should strike tonight. After all, the only witnesses will be those who already know that 626 is an alien.”

“Very well. This evening we shall surprise Experiment 626 and bring it into custody.”

As the Councilwoman turned to radio the plan to agent Bubbles, Pleakley sighed. _In all honesty,_ he thought to himself, _I feel as though 626 is less of an “it” now and more of a “he”._ It was rather confusing.

***

That evening, the three met up with Cobra Bubbles and the platoon just down the beach from where 626 was surfing with a group of Earthlings. The Councilwoman turned to Bubbles. “Any other Earthlings present?”

“Not within several miles. Is everything in place on your end?”

She nodded. “The shuttle’s detachable ship was placed at the head of the beach earlier, right across from us. I currently have a stealth soldier waiting over there.” She pointed to an outcropping near where 626 and its companions periodically landed.

“Very good.” Turning to the aliens assorted behind them Bubbles asked if there were any final questions or concerns. After several moments Pleakley broke the silence.

“If I may raise some concerns,” he began, “I feel as though we should slightly change how we view Experiment 626.”

The Councilwoman stared at him. “Oh?”

“Well, after observing him this afternoon I feel as though to continue to call 626 ‘it’ would do a disservice to him After all, he didn’t _seem_ to be the rabid animal he was originally described as. As he seemed more like a properly civilized person, I feel we should treat him as such.”

The Councilwoman had to fight the urge to roll her eyes; clearly, Pleakley was feeling a bit sentimental. “Are there any other questions, preferably ones pertaining to the actual operation?” Hearing the silence, she declared, “soon this nightmare will be over. Soon, Experiment 626 will be back in custody and things will return to normal.” Trying to ignore the look on Pleakley’s face, she strode down to the beach.

The agent turned to Jumba. “You saw,” he said, “aren’t I right?”

Jumba sighed. “You may be, my friend, but that will not change her mind. She will just have to see for herself.”

Shortly afterwards, everything was in position for the final capture. The stealth soldier inched as close as he dared to 626, and when the experiment was within striking distance the soldier deactivated his cloaking device and grabbed his quarry. Cuffing the experiment and jabbing it with his gun, it presented it to the Councilwoman. “We have 626!”

“Take it to the pod!”

As the Earthling girl ran up and began shouting, Bubbles grabber her arm. Looking down at her, he shook his head.

Tearing his eye away from the experiment being pushed at gunpoint towards his fate, Pleakley turned to the Councilwoman. “I congratulate you on capturing 626. Now we can all go home, get things sorted out, and Earth will be safe.”

Nodding and granting Pleakley a half-smile, she moved to address Jumba. “Dr. Jumba,” the Councilwoman began, “now that Experiment 626 is caught I am happy to tell you that you are officially cleared of all –”

Before she could continue, a small voice raised from the ramp of the pod. Whirling to face it, the Councilwoman saw that 626 was attempting to speak.

“Stitch. My name is _Stitch_.”

The Councilwoman was utterly abashed. _Was THIS what the other two were talking about?”_

  
“Does Stitch have to go on the ship?” The experiment asked.

Still flabbergasted, all the Councilwoman could say was “yes.”

Visibly agitated, the experiment asked if he could say goodbye. Upon hearing another stunned yes from the Councilwoman, he said a quick “thank you” and hobbled over to the Earthlings.

After watching 626 – no, _Stitch_ – embrace its – no, _his_ – companions for several moments, the Councilwoman was finally able to compose herself. “Who are you? How-how did you do this?”

Before they could respond Stitch turned to her. “This is my family. I found it all on my own. It’s small, and a little broken, but still good.” Giving them a small smile he repeated “yeah, still good” and began to walk towards the pod.

Pleakey sighed as he and the Councilwoman watched him. “Does he really have to go?”

The Councilwoman felt rather remorseful. On one hand, she hated to tear apart what seemed to be a loving family. On the other…

“Unfortunately, Pleakley, we cannot allow Stitch to stay. Not only is he still technically a fugitive, but under the non-interference act of 5640 a life-form such as Stitch or you and I cannot live on a planet such as Earth.”

As she sadly watched Stich make his way into the pod, and idea occurred to her. “Actually,” she began, “although it is true that Stitch must return to space with us I see no reason why he must be in chains.” Walking over to the experiment, she picked him up. Turning to address the entire crowd on the beach, the Councilwoman took a deep breath.

“Although the non-interference act of 5640 makes it impossible for the life-form Stitch to live on Earth, his behavior this afternoon as well as prior observations by doctor Jumba Jookiba and Agent Wendy Pleakley call into question the continued validity of his standing sentence. As such, as Grand Councilwoman of the Galactic Federation I hereby grant Stitch a retrial in order to reassess what sort of role he deserves in galactic society.” Pausing to undo Stitch’s restraints, she continued. “Furthermore, I feel as though it is my duty and privilege to inform those present that if Stitch is granted an amnesty by the council and allowed to join proper society circumstances could be arranged for him to visit Earth once in a while.”

Placing Stitch on the ground, she allowed him to take a giant hug from the little Earthling girl. As all the aliens filed onto the ship and Stitch finished his final goodbyes, the Councilwoman turned to Bubbles.

Bubbles began to chuckle. “That was good work, freeing the experiment.”

“Well, I felt as though he deserved it. Having written him off from the moment he was created, I think I at least owe him the benefit of the doubt.” The Councilwoman shook his hand. “Agent Bubbles, it was a pleasure working with you again. Perhaps some time I could take you on a tour of the Federation?”

For perhaps the first time in history, the Earthling removed his sunglasses. “Are you asking me on a date, by any chance?”

The Councilwoman blushed. “What? No!” I just – just think that you would enjoy the trip. Now if you excuse me, I really must be going.” She turned and ran onto the ship.

As the aliens took off and blasted into space, Bubbles turned to the little girl.

“Is Stitch ever gonna come back?”

“That depends on the will of the Council. With any luck they’ll see him for how he really is, and maybe then we can arrange something. Now, let’s get all of you back to your house.”

Slipping back into Social Worker mode, Bubbles decided not to mention the day’s events if he could avoid it.

***

As the ship flew through space, Pleakley had the oddest feeling that all of the soldiers were avoiding him. He sighed. _Has my reputation really spread that far?_ Normally he wouldn’t have minded, but unfortunately there was no one else to speak with. Jumba and the Councilwoman had been in contact with one official ever since they left Earth, and Stitch – Pleakley still had to remind himself every so often not to call him 626 anymore – spent most of his time staring out the window. As such, he was left with utterly no one to talk to.

After several hours of this, Pleakley mentally said _screw it_ and went over to the experiment.

“How are you holding up?” He asked.

Jumping, Stitch faced him. “I’m going to be hauled in front of those people from last time, aren’t I?” Seeing Pleakley nod, the experiment shook his head. “What am I going to do? They’ll probably just write me off like before and send me to some asteroid without giving me the chance to speak.”

Unfortunately, Pleakley couldn’t protest. Knowing the sort of people on the Council, that was probably exactly what they’d do. Still, he had to say something to ease the experiment’s mind. “Well,” he suggested, “I guess that we just have to prove that you’ve changed.” Thinking for a bit, Pleakley had an idea. “Maybe Jumba, the Councilwoman, or yours truly could testify in your favor before you formally appear. If they hear how reformed you are in advance, maybe they’ll be more willing to listen to you.”

Stitch perked up. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course! Now, if you sit tight, I’ll try and find the Councilwoman.”

As it turned out, the Councilwoman was rather open to Pleakley’s idea. Deciding that having Jumba testify as a character witness in front of the same court that had declared him a mad scientist less than a month before was probably a bad idea, the two made formal arrangements with the Council to testify in favor of the experiment. Returning to Stitch, Pleakley couldn’t wait to tell him the news.

Finding Stitch in the quarters he had been assigned, Pleakley gave him a big smile.

“I take it things went well?” The experiment asked.

“You bet! Your trial is in a week, but my request to get you character witnesses was granted! The Councilwoman and I will speak on your behalf before you’re brought before the court.

Grinning, Stitch leapt up and hugged the agent. “Oh, thank you!”

Pleakley patted him on the head. “No problem. Now, would you like help preparing: I’d be willing both to help you ready your case and teach you anything you wish to know about the Galactic Federation or society itself.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, this thing is rough. I can't even say how many times I mentally cringed writing it, from the rather lackluster characterization (everyone TALKS THE EXACT SAME WAY most of the time), to the lack of variance in sentence structure, to the (in my opinion at least) poor word diversity. Still, it was neat going back through my earliest work, and comparing to to AER; even though the two works are completely different in the path they took, I still noticed little bits here and there that I think probably led from the first Fic into the Second, like an eschewing of the Earth setting and characters in favor of the space ones and a Captain Gantu that is more sympathetic and reasonable than in canon.   
> The writing style was also very recognizably mine, even if it is VERY evident that a great deal of evolution occurred in the year between this and the start of AER, and even moreso in the gap between this work and me actually putting in a great deal of effort to AER starting last November.   
> This is definitely going to be a one-off, since there isn't anywhere that I wanted to take the story - at least as far as I can remember what the me of 2016 wanted - that wouldn't feel like a partial or complete retread of AER.  
> That, and of course the fact that the writing is as rough and unpolished as a sack of gravel.   
> Still, I think it makes for an interesting read, both in terms of concept and as a contrast between what was then and what was to come.  
> But who knows? Maybe if and when I write something that comes after An Experiment's Rise I'll find a way to recycle a few of the plot points or little story bits.  
> Maybe.


End file.
